


In My Head

by Johnlockinspiresme



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fix-It, John Watson Makes Deductions, John's Wedding, M/M, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:34:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28742562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlockinspiresme/pseuds/Johnlockinspiresme
Summary: Sherlock never expected to be laying on the ground of 221B on John's wedding night. But he also never expected John to marry anyone when he's the only thing running through his head.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	In My Head

Shades of purple reflect in the glass, the last rays of the fireworks caught casting Sherlock’s wet face in color. He flinches every time it happens but can’t bring himself to clean up the remains of the broken mirror. Mrs. Hudson is still at the reception and Sherlock is completely alone just like he was for those awful two years away from Baker street… and him. Sherlock doesn’t like to think about those two years and usually it’s quite easy to keep those memories under lock and key. But John isn’t here, likely won’t ever be again and there is no case to distract him. Sherlock weeps curled up into himself as he remembers a cold night from a year ago.

Sherlock is hanging from the ceiling by his wrists and has spent the last hour trying to think of a way to use his weight to snap the rope. Nothing he has come up with will work though and he can barely even feel his wrists at this point. The man Ian who strung him up is one of those sick sadists that get off on torture. Sherlock knows he needs to get out of here before he gets back but apparently the bastard was a boy scout because his knots are impeccable. A sudden creak fills the space and Sherlock feels the hair on his exposed arms raise. He can’t even remember when they took off his shirt. Ian appears carrying what looks like a cow whip and Sherlock feels a moment of panic before forcing the emotion down. He wants to mouth off but that’s exactly what he expects. He decides to stay quiet and look as uninterested as possible. He starts delving into his mind palace looking for somewhere interesting enough to keep himself occupied. He already knows where he’s going before he gets there. The John wing is easily the biggest place and even the most minute detail about him is fascinating. He is locked into the replay of their first meeting when the lash makes contact with his flesh. He chants John’s name the entire time but not for the reason that Ian probably thinks. If only he hadn’t been such an idiot that first night… everything might have turned out differently. 

Sherlock is jerked back from the memory by the sounds of footsteps on the stairs, he doesn’t even have the energy to stand at this point. He knows it isn’t Mrs. Hudson and if he didn’t know better he would swear it’s…

“John?” He hears his own voice crack on the words and winces. He doesn’t think he has ever been so uncomposed in John’s presence before, at least not like this. John walks towards him crouching down just a few feet away and he doesn’t say anything, barley even breathes. He has solider face on and Sherlock struggles to deduce what could be so important he would leave his own reception for unless… oh fucking hell he is going to kill Mycroft. 

“John, it’s not a danger night.” 

“Then why the hell are you on the floor Sherlock?” He’s angry, fists are curled at his sides and it’s clear he is struggling to keep his breathing under control. 

“I can’t sit on my own floor if I choose?”

“Sherlock, don't give me that shit. You haven’t turned on any of the lights, it’s obvious you have been crying, and instead of using the sofa to sulk on like you usually do, you are on the ground. What is wrong?”

“Well since you seem to be such a sudden master of deductions, tell me yourself.”

John sighs and crosses his legs in front of Sherlock, the anger seems to be draining out of him. “If I knew that Sherlock then I wouldn’t bother asking. Tell me what’s wrong please.”

“I c-can’t.” And shit Sherlock never stutters. It's too much of a vulnerability and he is more terrified now sitting in his own flat in front of his best friend than he has been in his entire life. 

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll never see you again…” John’s eyes go wide and Sherlock can feel the sudden panic as intensely as if it were his own. John still struggles with Sherlock’s ‘death’ and he feels a twinge of pain at the thought. 

“Not like that John, I swear okay. I would never put you through that again. I meant that if I told you, then you wouldn’t want to be around me anymore.”  
“Sherlock, I can assure you there is nothing you can do or say that would chase me away.”

“I know you really think that and your sense of loyalty is admirable, but this is different John.” 

John groans, pulling at his hair and Sherlock watches him struggle, he is at his wits end and even though Sherlock didn’t ask him to come he still feels guilty. John should be enjoying his wedding night in a room bathed in lights and friends all around. Not in a dark flat with Sherlock worried that he might be using again. 

“Did you kill someone?” John asks in a calm voice. Sherlock can’t help but chuckle a little at that. He wishes it were something that simple and uncomplicated. At least if it involved a body he would know what to do. But this is sentiment, he is out of his element and he doesn’t really know what to do with himself. 

“No John, it has nothing to do with murder or drugs for that matter.” John nods looking miserable and completely at a loss. Sherlock stares at him since well who cares at this point, John is probably going to figure it out tonight anyways. He might as well get his fill of John Watson while he can. 

“Does it have to do with why you left early?” Sherlock doesn’t trust his voice at this point so he just nods and waits for John to ask something else.

“And your speech today it was lovely but Sherlock… did you mean it?” Sherlock tilts his head to the side and tries to read John’s face… self conscious and scared? Ah. 

“Do you mean when I said the two people who love you best in the whole world?” John nods and Sherlock sucks in a large breath and he knows there is nothing else to say. 

“Yes John.” John stares at him while Sherlock looks at the ground in front of him, willing the tears that have seemingly sprung out of nowhere to go back into the ducts and just let him get through this moment first. Once John leaves he can cry all he wants, in fact he thinks that he will never stop crying. 

“How long?” John’s voice is wrecked and Sherlock can’t help but look at him. The sight that greets him is enough to break his heart just that little bit more. John has tears streaking down his face and he looks so beaten down in that moment all Sherlock wants to do is hug him. He doubts that would be very comforting in this moment however so he focuses on the question instead. 

“Since I felt that way? Probably after the pool incident with Moriarty. Since I acknowledge it to myself? Not until after I faked my death and I couldn’t talk to you. I would dream of you every single night and I’ve been told there were many nights that I would wake up screaming your name. When I got back and found you at the restaurant I was going to tell you. I thought… well I don’t know but Mary was there and you had that ring and well it just seemed better for everyone to not say anything.” 

John isn’t breathing, he is staring at Sherlock and his gaze is so heated it feels as though his skin is on fire. John slowly starts moving closer until he is directly in front of Sherlock, knees pressing into knees. He puts his hands on Sherlock’s legs and looks into his eyes, those cerulean blues even more vivid for the tears that are lingering in the corners. Sherlock doesn’t dare to speak, just sits as still as possible and waits. John seems to be having an internal war with himself and when he leans into Sherlock it startles him so much that he leans away. John looks absolutely devastated as he does and that is when his brain switches back on. Sherlock is more shocked than he has ever been in his life. 

“John,” he breathes on his lips before kissing him. The kiss is chaste at first but then something seems to switch in John and suddenly there are hands in Sherlock’s hair and a tongue seeking entrance to his mouth. He lets him in and the first brush of tongues against each other has Sherlock thinking maybe there is such a thing as Nirvana. John’s hands are playing with the hem of Sherlock’s shirt and he shivers despite himself. His entire body feels like fire and he wants everything all at once. 

John pulls his shirt off and attacks his neck with such vigor that Sherlock feels a chuckle being pulled out of himself. 

“You better not be laughing at my technique,” John says in a husky voice. 

“Of course not, Captain.” The word is out of his mouth before Sherlock can think better of it. John goes completely still and he moves his head back so that he can catch Sherlock’s eyes. The slow and smug smirk that John gives him is such that Sherlock can see why he was called ‘Three-continents Watson.’ 

Their mouths crash together and there is an urgency that wasn’t there before and Sherlock almost cries in triumph when he finally manages to get John’s jacket and shirt off. He runs his hands slowly, reverently down his chest pausing when he hits the below waist area. He lifts his eyes to John who is watching him so intently that Sherlock is almost sure everything running through his head is on display. It is a testament to how far gone he is that he can’t even be bothered to care. Instead he just lifts his eyebrows in question and at the silent nod he begins to unbuckle John’s belt. The snap of leather as Sherlock pulls it out from the belt loops is like a gong going off and suddenly they are tearing at each other's clothes. Removing everything as quickly as possible and yet it still doesn’t seem quick enough. Finally they are both naked and panting with the exertion. 

They tumble together and John has Sherlock pinned to the ground. He lays down so that their hard cocks line up and they moan into each other's mouth at the feeling. Sherlock hasn’t been like this with anyone in years and the fact that it’s John makes it all the more intense. John is panting and moaning above him and Sherlock wants so many things in that moment but he knows there is no way they are going to last long enough for any of them. The friction is too good and everything is so hot. John leans down and licks at the column of Sherlock’s throat ending it with a harsh bite that causes Sherlock to buck his hips up. His hands find the curve of John’s ass and he pulls him snugly against him. He hears a small gasp of surprise and can’t help but chuckle a bit. 

“Problem?” He inquires sweetly all while making it his life’s mission to make John incapable of speech. John moans as Sherlock leans his head up and captures one of his nipples between his teeth. He lavishes attention on it as though it is the most important thing in the world and at that moment it is. John is beginning to lose it desperately sliding against Sherlock, and whimpering as though the pleasure pains him as well. In a way Sherlock can understand that. 

He reaches between them and takes both their cocks in his rather large hands which causes John to stutter in his movements. His eyes are shut and he is barely breathing. Sherlock squeezes a little too hard and John’s breath hitches as his eyes meet Sherlock’s. 

“I want to see you,” Sherlock says. John nods understanding immediately. He begins to move again, fucking Sherlock’s hand and still shuddering as their cocks slide together inside the tight heat of his grip. Sherlock is so turned on that he thinks he might just faint from want. Or at least he would if he weren’t already laying down on the ground. 

“Fuck Sherlock, I’m…” and that is all the he manages to get out before Sherlock feels wetness between his fingers and on his cock. He groans and moves faster prolonging John’s pleasure and then fuck he’s there too. 

“John,” he calls out as he cums wringing every drop out of himself considering this is the first sex he has had in sometime it seems his body is giving a rather embarrassing load of it. Finally it stops and he allows his head to fall back against the floor with a thunk. John looks like he might topple over at any moment so Sherlock grabs his hips and manhandles him to lay by his side. Sherlock turns so they are lying face to face, nose to nose. They don’t really say anything for a while just breathe in each other’s existence. John’s left hand moves and caresses his face, Sherlock turns his face into it and that is when he remembers...Mary. John’s gold ring is like a bucket of ice water being doused on him and he finds himself pushing away even as John looks alarmed. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice unbearably soft. Sherlock can’t even speak; he just nods his head towards the ring. When John sees it he gets a puzzled expression before pulling it off and putting it on the nearest surface. 

“I’ll have to call Mary tomorrow but let’s not worry about that tonight.”

“What do you mean? John I am pretty sure that leaving your new wife on what is meant to be your wedding night will surely require more than a quick phone call to patch up.” John looks a little sad and amused at his words. He wishes vehemently he could actually read minds then as everyone assumes he can. 

“I won’t be patching up anything with her Sherlock. I will be calling to ask for an annulment and to get my stuff back of course. I would like to move back in with you. If you’ll have me.” John says the last part to the floor as though he can’t quite bring up the courage to look at Sherlock as he says it. Sherlock just blinks running John’s words through his head until they begin to make sense. Even then, he has a hard time believing that John means to break off his marriage for him. He is stunned and beyond happy. He moves towards John, putting a hand under his chin and pulling his face upwards until he is staring into his eyes. He moves in slowly, brings their foreheads together and breathes. 

“Of course I’ll have you John Watson. You don’t even need to ask.” Sherlock says and then he kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from a song I really like called In My Head by Peter Manos.


End file.
